Drowned and Dreamt
by Luna Darkside
Summary: Kaito hadn't started out as a spy – excuse him, an "intelligence gathering asset." Far from it, actually. He'd started out as a high-profile jewel thief. /ShinKai & KaiShin, spy!au, complete/
1. Chapter 1

_So here's the spy AU that I promised! Unfortunately, it's only the first part because I just couldn't get this finished, but I'm about midway through the second half! Any and all understanding of how espionage works is stolen from_ _Kingsman_ _(which I saw recently and is the primary reason why I wanted to write a spy AU), James Bond, and Avengers fic._

 _Warnings include shounen-ai,grammar mistakes / errors, handwavey spying tactics (as previously mentioned), etc., etc. Title from Adele's "Skyfall" for obvious reasons._

 _Enjoy! - Luna_

 **Drowned and Dreamt**

Kaito hadn't started out as a spy – excuse him, an "intelligence gathering asset." Far from it, actually. He'd started out as a high-profile jewel thief. He'd had his own police ordained codename and everything ("Phantom Thief 1412," though somehow that had morphed into "Kaitou Kid"). He'd made his jewel heists entertaining, throwing in some of the magic tricks he'd learned as a kid and being as flashy as possible. He'd had _fan clubs_.

And then Kudou Shinichi had shown up and changed everything. As he was wont to.

It had happened when Kaito was prematurely letting his guard down as he loitered in an alleyway several streets away from where he'd lifted the Diamond Queen from some snobby family's treasury (or whatever a large collection of art and jewelry on display was called). Well, maybe "prematurely" wasn't the correct word. It had been premature in _hindsight_ , but at the time, Kaito had never been caught before, so there had been no reason for him to suspect he'd be jumped thirty minutes after his heist, far from the heist location, dressed in an inconspicuous pair of jeans and t-shirt and looking nothing like his eye-catching alter ego.

He had been in the middle of inspecting the Diamond Queen, watching it gleam in the dim, murky moonlight, when a _soccer ball,_ of all things, came careening out of _nowhere_ and knocked the eighty-seven carat diamond out of his grip. Before he could comprehend what was happening, Kaito was trussed up in his t-shirt with his cheek shoved against the gritty, cold ground as a silhouette crouched over him, one hand on his neck to keep him restrained.

Gasping, Kaito had barely been able to hear the low voice of his assailant over the sound of his pounding heart. "Kuroba Kaito," the man had greeted, syllables strung together in a soft, smooth cadence, and Kaito had blinked up at him, feeling a bit like a beached whale.

"Um, hi. You know, this would be a lot more pleasant if you weren't pressing me into the ground, but whatever," he had grumbled before he could stop himself. He had tensed upon realizing that perhaps it wasn't a good idea to snark at someone who could clearly kill him with, like, an eyelash or something.

Surprisingly, the man had laughed and released his neck, allowing Kaito to struggle into a seated position against the decaying brick wall behind him. The dim moonlight had chosen that moment to illuminate the man's face, offering Kaito the chance to get a good look at him.

And wow. Kaito had been instantly starstruck at the sight of him, of the sight of those angular cheekbones and matching jawline and the impeccable fall of hair over that forehead, not to mention the flare of the man's suit over his narrow waist. And it that hadn't been enough, the man was still smirking just the slightest bit, his well-shaped mouth turned up higher on the left than the right.

God. Kaito had always been weak for good bone structure and crooked smiles. It had been as if the universe had known just what to do to screw with him.

When the silence had grown too heavy and long, Kaito had coughed and, demonstrating his considerable prowess as a wordsmith, said, "…Um."

The man had smiled the unworried smile of a man who got that reaction often. "Kuroba Kaito," he had repeated. "Also known as Phantom Thief 1412. Or do you prefer Kaitou Kid?"

That had been enough to snap Kaito out of his trance. He had scowled, slanting his head at the man. "Either's fine."

"Excellent." The man had reached into his suit pocket – Kaito had tensed, prepared to try to escape even while still tied up like an amateur BDSM enthusiast – but all the man did was extract a silver-threaded business card and set it on Kaito's knee. Squinting, Kaito had been able to make out _Kudou Shinichi – Defense Analyst and Technology Expert, Night Baron Security_ _– Private Contractor_ along with a phone number written on it in thick, blocky print.

"We at Night Baron have taken notice of you," the man – Kudou Shinichi, Kaito had supposed his name was – had informed him as Kaito had gaped up at him. "We've been watching your heists for a long time. Your skill with disguises and your acting ability have impressed a lot of people, Kuroba-san." He had done something with his eyebrows, a subtle flick or lift or raise, that had something in Kaito's stomach twisting into Gordian knots. "We're interested in recruiting you as a, ah…" Uneven smile here, and _oh_ , there had gone Kaito's heart, goodbye forever. "An intelligence gathering asset. We're willing to overlook your criminal record, so by all means, please contact us with the number on that card."

With one last nod at Kaito, Kudou Shinichi had walked out of the alleyway, only stopping to scoop up the long-forgotten Diamond Queen.

"I'll be returning this to the Suzuki family, if you don't mind," he had called over his shoulder above the tap of his polished shoes against the concrete, and Kaito had not _swooned_ , because he hadn't been a preteen girl, he'd just sort of… sagged dreamily against the wall.

In the end, he had called the number, out of a combination of morbid curiosity and the fact that yes, okay, he sort of had a tiny, unimportant, irrelevant thing for Shinichi. Upon calling, he had been directed to a sleek skyscraper in Beika City, interrogated by a set of terrifying young women, and then sent out on a "test run" that involved infiltrating a gala that an international weapons dealer was allegedly using as a cover for a deal.

Naturally, Kaito been successful in this venture – he had latched onto one of the stuffy older gentleman attendees in the disguise of a voluptuous, airheaded blonde and shut down the transaction minutes after it had begun – and thus he had been inducted into the ranks of Night Baron Security's assorted "defense analysts, technology experts, and intelligence gathering assets."

Basically, that was how Kaito had become a spy.

* * *

The first time Kaito had happened upon Shinichi in the hallway after a briefing from one of the many handlers Night Baron employed, Shinichi's eyes had widened and he'd clapped Kaito on the shoulder, all the while grinning. "So you made it in, did you?" he had beamed, and Kaito had nodded and smiled stupidly back at him.

It had escalated into Shinichi mentioning that he had just lost a partner – Mouri Ran, his last one, had been promoted to some kind of higher level of spy (Kaito hadn't and still doesn't understand the hierarchy of spies, but whatever) – and Kaito had remarked, "Oh, I haven't been assigned a partner yet either," and Shinichi had looked at him with consideration, and then, well, it hadn't been hard to see where that was going.

And three years later they were still partners. Unfortunately not life partners, as Kaito would've hoped would've happened within three years, but regular partners were close enough _–_ considering Night Baron's odd cohabitation regulation, which forced them to live together (and subsequently forced Kaito to see things that were dangerous to his sanity, like Shinichi topless and flushed right after a shower).

They'd gotten through ridiculous missions, things involving endangered pandas and bungee jumping off the top of Bell Tree Tower and near-death encounters with radical soccer fans, and they'd gotten through ridiculous arguments, things stemming from Shinichi's habit of not eating until he passed out from hunger and Kaito's predilection for singing loudly in the shower and their opposing views on eggplants. They'd gotten through it all. Because at the end of the day, Kaito needed Shinichi in many ways, both visceral and rational, and while he didn't know if Shinichi felt the same, he did know that Shinichi didn't seem to mind him, and that was good enough. If they never progressed to romance, Kaito would be fine with that.

* * *

After dismantling a dirty bomb in Alaska (of all places; Kaito didn't understand terrorists sometimes), Kaito came home to find Hattori passed out at the kitchen table. His partner Hakuba was spinning a standard issue throwing knife between his fingers as he lounged on the couch. Shinichi was nowhere in sight.

Blinking and setting down his bag, Kaito shut the door behind him. "Uh… hi."

Hakuba nodded genially in his direction, and then proceeded to throw the knife at him. He ducked out of the way with a yelp.

Glaring at where the knife was now embedded in the front door – Shinichi was _not_ going to be pleased about that – Kaito turned to scowl at Hakuba. "What was _that_ for?"

"Just testing your reflexes," Hakuba answered and had the nerve to smirk at him.

Kaito fumed. Hakuba had transferred from MI6 to Night Baron for reasons Kaito didn't know and didn't care about, and because he had worked for a "government agency," he seemed to think he was head and shoulders above the rest of them. Which was an unfortunate character trait, considering his assigned partner was Hattori, who was both arrogant and hotheaded and therefore did not appreciate Hakuba's ego. They fought to the point that Kaito had a legitimate fear that he would die as collateral damage of one of their arguments.

If it were up to him, he wouldn't voluntarily deal with either of them, because they were both insane, but Hattori was somehow Shinichi's best friend and Shinichi and Hakuba shared a borderline obsessive love of Sherlock Holmes, so unsurprisingly Shinichi adored both of them. And as that was the case, Kaito couldn't bring himself to demand Shinichi stop inviting the two of them over.

The things he did for Shinichi.

Hattori stirred at the table as Kaito plucked the knife out of the door and hurled it back at Hakuba (the bastard caught it between his fingers, likely just to annoy Kaito). He lifted his head, squinting as he took in his surroundings. "Oh, Kuroba. You're back," he mumbled, yawning.

"What an astute observation, Hattori-kun. Truly remarkable," Hakuba sniffed in his infamous, insufferable _I am leagues above your level_ tone, and Hattori went dangerous and frozen halfway through his yawn.

"I swear to God, Hakuba, I'm gonna rip your goddamn blond hair out with my bare hands –"

"How _violent_ ," Hakuba gasped with perfect British horror, and Hattori near growled.

"You –"

"Anyway," Kaito interjected at a louder volume than necessary, "do you guys know where Shinichi is?"

" _Shinichi_ ," Hattori imitated under his breath, drawing a slight flush to Kaito's cheeks (the whole first-name-with-no-honorifics thing had started as a result of a mission they'd done with another agent named Kuroo, after which Shinichi had insisted they call each other by their first names to minimize the confusion that had transpired over the comms). He let his head drop back on the table. "Kudou went out to get the debrief for the drug cartel thing we're supposed to do. Apparently he was having trouble downloading it on his computer?"

Frowning, Kaito took a seat across from Hattori at the table. "What drug cartel thing?"

Hakuba audibly rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. "Oh, just that mission that we've been assigned to do together for the past eight months," he answered, somehow managing to inject several thousand liters of disdain into his voice. "It's not as if it was anything important."

Fighting the urge to find a frying pan and fling it at Hakuba's face, Kaito gritted his teeth and turned back to Hattori. "So he's at headquarters, then?"

"Yeah." Hattori sighed. "I can't believe he would leave me here with this asshole." He jerked his head in Hakuba's direction.

"Excuse _you_ , Hattori-kun, but I am most certainly _not_ –" Hakuba began with enough haughtiness to make Kaito want to light himself on fire and jump off the balcony, but it was at that moment that the front door opened and Shinichi traipsed in.

"Hi, guys," he grinned, and instantly the tense atmosphere deflated. Shinichi just had that effect.

And it didn't hurt that he looked gorgeous as usual, Kaito thought as he inconspicuously tried to sweep his gaze over Shinichi. He was wearing jeans and an oversized cardigan that would be hideous on anyone other than him, and his hair was tousled from the wind. It was a far cry from Kaito's initial impression of him, but Kaito could admit that he preferred seeing how Shinichi looked outside of the field.

Tugging off his cardigan, Shinichi sat down at the kitchen table beside Kaito. "Hey, Kaito," he nodded with a smile, and Kaito half-melted into his chair. Shinichi didn't seem to notice as he went on, "How was Alaska?"

"Cold," Kaito replied, and Shinichi hummed.

"Anyway, here's the debriefing," he said, slapping a thick folder down on the table. As Hakuba relocated to Hattori's side, Shinichi continued, "Apparently there's going to be a huge transaction at this party thing." He wrinkled his nose, flipping the folder open and shuffling through a few papers. "Museum… opening? Showing? Something like that."

Hattori leaned forward, studying the included blueprint with raised eyebrows. He gave a whistle. "This is some high security shit."

"It's the grand opening of a 'metropolitan museum of art and culture' where several pieces of priceless art will be displayed, so that's hardly surprising," Hakuba murmured, but he didn't sound condescending. He thumbed through several more pages. "Kuroba is running point, it appears."

"Really? What am I supposed to do?" Kaito narrowed his eyes, flicking through the packet until he located the job designations.

"You're disguising as Takeda Kousuke, a young businessman with a failing company. In case you're wondering, we're planning to knock him out for the duration of the event. Anyway, Takeda has been approached multiple times by Yamamoto Akihiro, the suspected kingpin of the narcotics operation we're trying to shut down. He was invited to this opening, likely as a prospective customer," Shinichi told him. "Your objective is to get any and all information on the outfit possible. According to the museum layout, there's a suspicious unmarked spot between upstairs galleries two and three, which suggests that may be his base of operations. Hattori is playing back up in the event something goes wrong, Hakuba is mapping out the floor and disabling security, and I'm going to be walking you through the whole thing." He frowned, looking up with eyebrows lifted. "Wow, why am I handling? Shouldn't Nakamori or Toyama be handling this?"

"It's because they need a break from Kuroba-kun, and you're the only one who can stand talking to him for an extended period of time," Hakuba supplied, earning a glower from Kaito and an eye roll from Hattori.

But Shinichi, bless his beautiful soul, just looked bewildered. "What are you talking about? Kaito is perfectly good company," he argued, and Kaito flushed and flinched under the knowing look Hakuba leveled at him.

"Shut up," he grumbled, and Hakuba shook his head, making annoying little tsk noises. Hattori did the same.

"You're in deep, Kuroba."

Shinichi continued to frown, mystified, before Kaito forced a smile in his direction. "It's nothing. They're just being assholes," he assured his partner, watching in fascination as the wrinkle between his eyebrows smoothed at Kaito's words. It was alarming how much blind faith Shinichi appeared to put in him.

"If you say so," Shinichi shrugged, and turned back to the file. "Anyway, let's discuss these alarms…"

Kaito studiously ignored the twin smirks Hakuba and Hattori were casting in his direction. At least they had _something_ they could bond over, he thought with an internal sigh.

* * *

 **If you enjoyed this chapter, please considering dropping me a review. See you all soon~! - Luna**


	2. Chapter 2

Shinichi had always prided himself on being able to make logical, rational decisions even under pressure. His handlers often commented on that – his ability to keep emotions and missions separate, the ease with which he made calculations and acted. It was his trademark.

Well. It had been until Ran had sent him out to recruit Phantom Thief 1412.

To be honest, Shinichi hadn't expected much when he'd first read through the file on the thief. He'd skimmed things like _death of father (magician, Kuroba Toichi)_ and _troubled youth_ and _raised by single mother_ and _failed career as magician_ and _crime as possible coping method (?)_ underneath the section regarding personal life. He'd stared at _unconfirmed_ underneath mental wellness. From what he'd seen of the thief, on news reports and the snippets of surveillance video Night Baron had captured at the occasional stoplight, he hadn't seemed out of the ordinary, save for perhaps an unusual skill for disguise. Just another criminal best left alone, in his opinion.

Still, Ran had insisted, so Shinichi had gone to collect the (in his opinion) two-bit criminal after one of those raucous, gaudy spectacles he called a heist. He had been expecting a short, angry exchange, Phantom Thief 1412 spitting in his face and declining, Shinichi administering one of the amnesia-inducing drugs Miyano from the chemistry department had been slaving over, and then going on his way to complain to Ran. Easy, clean, simple.

But then Shinichi had actually laid eyes on Kuroba Kaito – Kuroba Kaito, who had the oddest look, equal parts playful and predatory, in his hungry, tired eyes and a smile so quicksilver one could get whiplash trying to follow it. In person, he was nothing like the grainy fragments caught on film. The moment Shinichi had taken a good look at him, Shinichi had been entranced, because Kuroba Kaito had been, and still was, half antihero and half angel, half showman and half cynic, half smiles and half masks. He was the most perfect mystery Shinichi had ever encountered.

And Shinichi – well, Shinichi never could resist a good mystery. So he hadn't – which, in the end, cut his capacity for rational decision making to about zero wherever Kaito was involved.

(Incidentally, the extent to which Shinichi had fallen was still up for debate. Ran called him "disgustingly besotted." Shinichi called it "emotionally compromised." He still had his pride, after all.)

Regardless of nomenclature, Shinichi thought as he shifted on their couch and watched Kaito wade through the sea of socialites and CEOs through the camera mounted on Kaito's tie pin, he had long since come to terms with the fact that he was pretty much screwed in the concentration department. It took a Herculean effort to focus on the mission on hand when he could reminisce about what Kaito had looked like in the impeccable bespoke suit he'd procured for his disguise, think about how he'd grinned at Shinichi before donning the latex mask and heading out the door.

Shaking his head, Shinichi buzzed into the mic tucked in Kaito's ear when he recognized one of Takeda's business partners approaching. "Three o'clock, that guy with the gray suit? He's Hamada Yuutarou, one of your friends and your current business partner," he recited from memory.

He could almost hear Kaito sighing. "He's, like, ninety-seven, how is he even alive," he mumbled, making Shinichi smirk, before he dropped into his disguised voice and called, "Oh, Hamada-san!" as Hamada came within earshot.

"Don't be a stranger, Kousuke-kun," Hamada beamed, reaching up to pat Kaito on the shoulder. His bony fingers clasped tight around Kaito's bicep. "My, you're looking lovely tonight, my boy."

"Why thank you," Kaito laughed, somehow managing to extract his arm from the man while still acting natural. Shinichi could practically taste his horror through the comms, and he had to smother a smile in the back of his hand.

"By any chance, were you invited here by Yamamoto-san?" Kaito asked Hamada, who nodded.

"Indeed I was! What an excellent fellow. I hear he's got some of the good stuff, too, if you're looking for it," the older man winked, dripping lasciviousness, and Kaito laughed, though Shinichi could tell from the minute twitching of the camera that he had tensed.

"Oh, really? You know where I could get some of that?" he questioned with artful nonchalance.

Hamada laughed. He was missing several of his teeth, Shinichi noted in the back of his mind. "Dear boy, if what I've been hearing is true, I'm certain _you'd_ be much more likely to wrangle any of that out of Yamamoto than _I_ ," he chortled with a knowing wink. "All you'd have to do is flutter those pretty eyelashes of yours and he'd be handing you metric tons of the stuff." Still chuckling, he patted Kaito once more on the shoulder before hobbling off to harass some other poor young man.

"Well," Kaito whispered as he paused by a truly hideous portrait of an obese pug, "I think I need to take a fifteen hour shower to wash off all the creepiness, but, uh, at least we know Hamada isn't in with Yamamoto? Yet, at least? Although Takeda seems kind of suspicious."

Shifting on the couch, Shinichi ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Yes, well. I was hoping we'd maybe get something more than that, but I suppose that's good enough for now. I think it's almost time for you to go find Yamamoto, so you should start making your way to…" He flicked through a few of the surveillance feeds Hakuba had hacked into, searching for Yamamoto. According to his file, he was about one hundred and eighty centimeters tall, with dark hair –

"Ah, Takeda-kun!" The camera swiveled as Kaito instinctively turned towards the voice. Shinichi squinted at the video, trying to identify the man who was advancing on Kaito with a wide, white-toothed smile. Surprisingly young, good-looking, dark-haired, roughly one hundred and eighty centimeters, wearing a dark blue suit of expensive Italian make, complete with one of the most overblown silk pocket squares Shinichi had ever seen –

" _It's Yamamoto_ ," he hissed into the mic, and Kaito straightened with a surprised hum. "Okay, act natural."

Kaito didn't have time to reply before Yamamoto was coming to a stop in front of him, his smile still stuck in place. "Takeda-kun," he reiterated, his voice a low, smooth baritone as he inclined his head in a polite nod. "It's nice to see you decided to come to this little party of mine."

"Well, of course I did," Kaito responded. Shinichi could hear the warm, manufactured smile in his tone. "I was very interested in what you… insinuated."

"Oh, really?" For some odd reason, Yamamoto began to lean forward, close enough that the only thing Shinichi could see was the well-woven lapel of his suit jacket.

"Kaito, he's overwhelming the camera," he murmured. Kaito took a small step back, tilting his head to one side as he laughed.

"Of course I'm interested, Yamamoto-san. Why wouldn't I be, when it came from a man like you?" he half-sang, and Shinichi shook his head and forced himself to relax against the couch cushions. Trust Kaito to play up the seductive playboy thing. Granted, he liked doing that outside of missions as well – Shinichi could only attest to that unfortunate character trait, seeing as he'd been on the receiving end of Kaito's casual, meaningless flirting all too many times for his heart to escape unscathed – but it still irked Shinichi to see him using the same tactics on others.

He peeked at the feed, trying not to sulk. Unsurprisingly, Yamamoto was enraptured, beaming at Kaito as if Kaito was some kind of diamond in the rough. (Which he _was_ , Shinichi thought viciously, but _he'd_ know that much better than Yamamoto.) "I'm so glad you're interested, Kousuke," he all but purred, and then he extended one hand to – _caress the back of Kaito's neck?_

Shinichi was struck by the sudden urge to hurl his computer across the room. He was aware that he was making a strange hissing sound, not dissimilar to the sound an angry cat made when its tail was stepped on, but he was more preoccupied with the _asshole_ who was touching _Kaito_ like some kind of _molester_ and therefore deserved to have his _kidneys_ forcibly _removed_.

Kaito, to his credit, only gave a startled laugh. "Well," he managed, sounding rather attractively breathless, and never mind forcible kidney removal, Shinichi was going to _stab Yamamoto in the eye socket and break all his fingers_.

"When you didn't respond to my advances," Yamamoto was saying with his _hand still on Kaito_ , "I thought you weren't interested at all, but I'm overjoyed that you reconsidered. As you know, I've been enamored of you ever since that first time we met at that awful cocktail party. You're the only one I want, Kousuke. I would be honored if you would consent to the wedding." When Kaito apparently only continued to look shell shocked, Yamamoto amended, "If you don't want a large wedding, we could have a private ceremony." He paused. "Maybe one a cruise ship. How do you like the Caribbean? I think you'd look amazing against the ocean, my dear." He gave a dreamy sigh.

" _Oh my God_ ," Shinichi choked as realization struck. He devoted a long moment to bemoaning the fact that of _course_ , of all the people Yamamoto had invited, they just _had_ to pick the one he wanted to marry for Kaito to impersonate. Just _typical_. He was going to slaughter the mission intel department the moment he got Kaito out of that idiot's slimy hands.

"Darling," Kaito began with quivery apprehension, sounding like one of those fainting heroines from those bodice-ripping romance novels (and Shinichi had to employ the yoga breathing exercises Ran had taught him on her off day at the thought of Kaito swooning in Yamamoto's unmuscular, disgusting arms), "this whole time… I don't know why, but I thought you were trying to get me to join your drug… syndicate. And you know I… I don't have the money or time to invest in that, and…"

"Oh, _sweetheart_." Yamamoto looked down at Kaito with pain in his eyes, tugging Kaito forward into his gross, disgusting, revolting, probably well-muscled chest. Shinichi snarled obscenities in every language he could think of as the camera feed turned into an up-close shot of Yamamoto's top button. "I would _never_ try to get you involved in any of that, especially when I know how rough things have been for you lately," his voice murmured, suddenly loud. Shinichi came to the realization that Yamamoto was _whispering in Kaito's ear_ , oblivious of the earpiece, and he began jotting down some ideas on the best ways to dispose of a dark-haired, one hundred and eighty-centimeter-tall body.

"Dearest, you're so sweet," Kaito gushed. The video shuddered as he extricated himself from Yamamoto's grasp, wobbling to focus on Yamamoto's diamond-studded tie clip. Shinichi gritted his teeth – that meant they were still almost chest to chest, didn't it?

Why was Kaito being so – so accommodating? The man was a _known drug dealer_ , and there Kaito was, hanging all over him like some… some naïve little _airhead_. In all the times Shinichi had seen him being hit on, by men and women alike, Kaito had always been flirty and coquettish, but he always deflected their advances in the end. So why was he practically melting into Yamamoto's hands?

The thought that _wait a second, Yamamoto is actually good-looking, what if Kaito is genuinely attracted to him_ struck Shinichi, and he scowled so hard he almost felt something break. No. That was unacceptable. First of all, Yamamoto was a _criminal_ –

 _But Kaito was originally a criminal, too,_ an unhelpful voice sing-songed in the back of his mind. _Maybe he likes his men a little rough. Maybe that's why he has absolutely no interest in you. Did you ever think of that, hm?_

Shoving the thought aside, Shinichi let out a huff. Okay. Fine. Maybe it was possible that, if Kaito was attracted to Yamamoto, he would be willing to – to… what?

A chill shot up Shinichi's back. What if – no, Kaito wouldn't but – but what if he actually... actually _slept with him?_

Shinichi sat there for a moment longer, fingers twitching as Kaito exchanged more meaningless endearments with Yamamoto, before he switched feeds to Hattori, who was disguised as a nondescript waiter.

"Hattori," he said once he'd buzzed into Hattori's earpiece. Hattori flinched, almost knocking over a poor young lady in his surprise.

"What? What's happened, Kudou?" he hissed after apologizing to the girl. "Is Kuroba being held hostage or something?"

"Not – really," Shinichi had to admit, but before Hattori could do anything more than make a confused noise, he snapped, "Just go up to him and tell him that he's got a family emergency or something. Get him away from Yamamoto. He's in the first gallery on the second floor."

"Wait, what's going –"

" _Do it_ ," Shinichi demanded before he buzzed out and went to wash his face with cold water and try not to think about how he'd just ruined the mission because he couldn't stand to see Kaito cozying up to some drug kingpin.

Being emotionally compromised _sucked_.

* * *

 **Uh, well... you know how I said this was going to be two parts? It's actually going to be three. I've already finished the whole thing (but let me tell you it's veeeery shittily written, and I'm kind of scrambling to make it less, um, shitty).**

 **Anyway, hope you liked this part (if you did, please consider leaving me a review!) and I'll see you all later! - Luna**


	3. Chapter 3

_CRAP ENDING BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I ROLL. (i'm sorry)_

* * *

Fuming, Kaito tore off the latex mask, tapping his foot against the carpeted floor of the elevator. His suit chafed as he crossed his arms across his chest, but Kaito ignored the discomfort in favor of glaring at the dimly lit button for the twenty-second floor.

What had Shinichi been _thinking_? He had been minutes, an hour at _most_ , away from getting _everything_ out of Yamamoto, and Shinichi's response had been to send Hattori to come pick him up with some contrived "your mother's had a heart attack" excuse that had been _obviously_ a ruse? What was he trying to say? That he didn't trust Kaito to complete the job? That couldn't be true, considering the sheer number of times they'd worked together; Shinichi knew Kaito's abilities and limitations forwards and back, maybe even better than Kaito knew them himself, and he had trusted Kaito with missions far more dangerous and delicate than this one.

There was no logical reason Shinichi had pulled back, Kaito thought, seething, and stabbed at the button again.

He was still bristling as the elevator doors slid open meekly and he stomped towards their apartment, throwing the door open to find Hattori and Hakuba arranged in all-too-casual positions at the kitchen table and Shinichi still sprawled over the couch with a small family of computers and monitors sitting on the table in front of him.

" _What_ ," Kaito enunciated, tossing the mask at the largest screen – his aim was true, and it landed on one corner with a splat, "the _hell_ was that, Shinichi?"

Shinichi straightened, the line of his throat undulating as he swallowed. Kaito hated how his gaze instinctively narrowed in on that. "It was a tactical retreat," he answered, voice steady, and Kaito scowled.

"Oh, _that's_ what we're calling it when you pull out of a mission that would've gone off _perfectly_ if you hadn't interfered?" he snapped, toeing off his shoes and stalking across the room to tower over Shinichi. He felt his mouth twitch downwards. "No. Wrong. I'm not in the mood to accept bullshit. Try again."

Breathing in deeply, Shinichi retained his infuriating, neutral expression. He met Kaito's enraged stare with grace, the faintest, almost imperceptible twitch of his fingertips the only indication of any emotion. "What if I said I didn't think you could pull it off? That you wouldn't have been able to do it?"

Kaito felt his breath stutter. At the table, Hakuba and Hattori both gave sharp inhales.

It took him a moment to find his voice. "No," he heard himself saying, as if from a distance. "I just said I wouldn't take any bullshit. That's not an answer." He gestured behind him. "This? This mission was low risk, for us. Hattori was there to bail me out if something did happen. The target had no idea I wasn't the lure. We were surrounded by people. We have been on _countless_ more dangerous missions."

On the couch, Shinichi remained wordless. His eyes didn't leave Kaito's, not for a second.

Laughing in disbelief, Kaito threw his hands in the air. "And don't you dare say you didn't think I'd be able to do the acting right. If you'll recall, I successfully pulled off a transaction disguised as _Okino Yoko_ during our first mission together, and even then, when you didn't know me, you didn't question my abilities." He exhaled, the tension bleeding from his shoulders as he turned towards his bedroom. "I could've gotten the information out of Yamamoto in under an hour, Shinichi."

There was a tense silence for a moment, during which Hattori shifted with unease and Hakuba shook his head, prim and proper. Kaito continued to glare at Shinichi, shoveling all concerned thoughts of how odd and shaken he looked to the far reaches of his mind. It wasn't time for his stupid infatuation to act up –

Shinichi abruptly opened his mouth. "Would that have been before or after you slept with him?"

"What?" Caught off guard, Kaito blinked rapidly. Shinichi's hands were fisted in his loose sweatpants, the material straining in his hold. He bowed his head, obscuring his expression from Kaito's view. Kaito scowled. "What do you mean, 'before or after I slept with him'?"

"The information," Shinichi clarified, and maybe it was just Kaito, but it sounded almost as if he was gritting his teeth. He lifted his chin, and Kaito startled at the vulnerable dismay in his eyes. "Would you have gotten the information before or after you slept with him?"

Speechless, Kaito could do nothing but stare.

They were interrupted by the sound of chairs scraping against the floor. Kaito whirled to see Hakuba and Hattori getting to their feet, eyebrows lifted half-knowingly, half-uncomfortably.

"Well," Hattori announced, "I think that's our cue to leave, isn't it?"

Hakuba nodded, rolling his eyes. "For once, you're right, Hattori-kun," he commented, mouth pressed in a firm, disapproving line, and Hattori started squawking, even as he shoved past Hakuba to reach the door first.

"What the hell are you trying to say, you asshole –"

"Your language is appalling as ever," Hakuba tutted as he elbowed Hattori out of the way, and the front door shut on Hattori's hiss of rage.

Kaito and Shinichi were left in silence.

"Well," Shinichi began after a moment, rising to his feet without looking at Kaito, "I think that's enough for tonight, don't you? I'm just going to go to bed now." He cleared his throat, making his way around the couch. His movements were uncharacteristic – stilted, almost, the walk of someone trying desperately to hide their distress. "And I already reported in to headquarters about the mission failure. I think we should be okay on paperwork until tomorrow, at least –"

"Shinichi," Kaito interrupted, with a severe lack of politeness, but he couldn't help himself, "did you think I was going to – to _sleep with Yamamoto_ to get the information?"

Shinichi gave no verbal response, but the flush that began to creep upwards from the neckline of his shirt spoke volumes.

"Unbelievable." Kaito gaped.

"In my defense," Shinichi retorted, casting Kaito a wounded glare, "You were hanging all over him, okay, and you were receptive to his advances, and there was all that – that petting and leaning in close –"

"Shinichi," Kaito cut in with deliberate slowness as he tried to understand what was happening, feeling out of sorts and a bit as if he'd been clobbered with a two-by-four, "I was acting like Takeda. You know, the lure I was disguised as? He's kind of an airhead, from the file I read on him. I mean, it hadn't said anything about – er – Yamamoto's obsession with him, but I figured Takeda had probably just been playing hard to get with him. So I… just…" He broke off into a bewildered laugh. "Did you really… think I'd…?"

Yet again, Shinichi didn't say anything, but from the way his ears were turning steadily redder, Kaito figured he'd hit the target.

"You do realize," he said, still a little disbelieving, "that if he even kissed me, he'd realize I was wearing a latex mask?" Shinichi's head shot up, eyes wide, and Kaito took that to mean that he hadn't, in fact, thought of that.

"Considering that," Kaito went on, eyebrows climbing his forehead with every passing second as he began to question his partner's sanity, "how could I have slept with him?" He slanted his head at Shinichi. "Also, my physical stature is different from Takeda's. I mean, I did well enough wearing the suit because it kind of hid the fact that I've got, like, actual muscle, and I sort of bent a little to make myself look shorter, but if I were naked, it would've become obvious that I wasn't Takeda. And then there would be the whole difference between the skin color of the mask and my actual coloring."

"Well," Shinichi mumbled, but didn't seem to be able to get any farther.

Kaito sighed. None of this made any sense. Shinichi had halted the mission because he thought Kaito would actually sleep with Yamamoto? That was ridiculous – surely Shinichi had been aware that Kaito didn't do honeypot missions; it was one of the stipulations he'd had added into his contract when he'd first joined – so why had he done that? It almost sounded as if – as if he _cared_ who Kaito slept with, which implied –

Wait.

Something warm filled Kaito's chest, and he took several cautious steps towards Shinichi. Shinichi didn't move, neither flinching back nor leaning in, allowing Kaito to come to a stop in front of him. Shinichi had insanely long eyelashes, he noticed in a distant sort of way.

"Shinichi, why," he began, then found he couldn't continue when Shinichi met his eyes at this distance. He licked his lips – and Shinichi's gaze darted down to watch, _ugh_ – and tried again. "Why would it matter if I slept with him?"

The abrupt anger that unspooled in Shinichi's eyes almost made Kaito retreat, but he managed to hold his ground. "Shinichi," he prompted, softer now, and Shinichi narrowed his eyes with something close to agitation.

"It's not – right. I don't want to think about you doing that kind of thing," he grumbled, eyes skittering over Kaito's face, passing down his neck and chest and torso before returning up, and Kaito shook his head.

"That's not an answer," he murmured, taking a chance to lift one hand and cup Shinichi's cheek – Shinichi tensed in his hold, and Kaito, crestfallen, almost let go, but then Shinichi relaxed, pushing into his touch the slightest bit. His expression, when he locked gazes with Kaito, was somehow both helpless and all-consuming, stealing Kaito's breath and the remnants of his sanity.

"You know what I mean," he told Kaito, who was becoming more and more conscious of Shinichi's proximity in too many ways – the fan of breath over his skin, the silk-softness of Shinichi's cheek under his thumb. "You always know."

"Do I," Kaito managed, and for one breathless moment, neither of them said anything.

And then Shinichi lunged forward, his hot, hot mouth biting into Kaito's with a total lack of finesse or restraint or refinement, the opposite of Shinichi himself, and Kaito let himself drown in it, let himself be overwhelmed by the searing sensation of Shinichi's hands gripping at Kaito's hips and the assertive press of Shinichi's tongue to his.

They broke apart gasping, Kaito's hands tucked into the warm places behind Shinichi's ears and Shinichi's thumbs working at the twin juts of Kaito's hipbones, and for half a second it was awkward, a moment in which Kaito wondered if he was dreaming.

Then Shinichi mumbled, fingers pinching and tugging reverently at the bespoke suit Kaito still wore, "God, this _suit_ alone is going to kill me, I swear," and Kaito laughed, swooping in to steal another kiss, which inevitably led to another, and another, and another.

There was a brief scuffle over which bedroom they would use, but in the end, Kaito managed to manhandle Shinichi onto his bed. He managed to make Shinichi's frown disappear by promising, "Next time we'll use yours," directly into Shinichi's ear, which made Shinichi shudder and make a quiet sound.

But then Shinichi leaned up, smiled crookedly, and corrected, "Next time we'll use _ours_."

And, well, Kaito had always been weak for crooked smiles and Kudou Shinichi, so he bent forward and agreed, "Damn right."

(He never quite forgave Shinichi for pulling him out of that mission, though.)

* * *

 **–** **omake –**

"Remember the time –" Kaito began, conversationally, as he stirred sugar into his coffee, but before he could finish, Shinichi threw a heavy volume of _The Complete Sherlock Holmes_ at him. Kaito, predictably, dodged, managing not to spill a single drop of his coffee even as he made ridiculous, indignant noises.

Shinichi glared, going to retrieve the book and slot it back into place on the bookshelf. Sometimes he really hated his fiancé.

Spluttering, Kaito placed his cup down on the coffee table in front of him. "How _rude_ ," he gasped, and Shinichi rolled his eyes.

"You're starting to sound like Hakuba," he commented, and Kaito made a mock horrified sound.

"Why, I never!"

Sighing, Shinichi made his way to the armchair situated across from Kaito's. He swept his gaze across the familiar rows and rows of books of the old family library. Even though he was in his own home – ancestral home, at least – he felt on edge, discomfited. It made sense, though, all things considered.

Kaito took a sip of his coffee before setting it back down, adopting a prim air. "Anyway," he began again, "as I was saying, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted, do you remember the time you pulled me out of that mission with the drug overlord even though I could've gotten the information because you thought I was going to sleep with him?"

God, sometimes Shinichi wondered why he'd ever bothered to start dating this idiot.

"Yes," he answered, "I do, in fact, remember. Because it _led to the start of our relationship_. Three years ago."

"Sure, sweet thing," Kaito shrugged, imperious, "but it was also a _very terrible assumption_ to make, especially when you knew I didn't sleep around for mission. Well, at least Hattori and Hakuba went back in and cleaned it all up. Though there were a lot more explosions and potentially lethal arguments because of that, I suppose." He gave a shit-eating grin. "It could've been so much cleaner, love. Neater. If only you hadn't been so jealous."

Shinichi looked at him askance. "Why do I do this to myself," he mumbled. "Why do I voluntarily commit myself to a pet-name-using, grudge-holding, stupid-looking former criminal?"

"Because you love me, sunshine," Kaito grinned, and Shinichi groaned.

"Unfortunately, I do," he agreed blithely, and was rewarded when Kaito flushed, clearly not expecting that response. It was Shinichi's turn to grin. Flustering Kaito was one of his favorite pastimes.

"So," Kaito said, hurrying to find a new topic, "when – when are your parents going to come?" He shifted, straightening his posture. "I can't believe this is the first time I'm actually meeting them. I've known you for what, six years?"

"They'll be here soon," Shinichi answered, glancing at his watch. Any moment, now. He cringed a little, though, at the thought of his parents actually arriving. He probably should've told Kaito, but… He cleared his throat. "To be honest, um… it's not the first time you're meeting them. Sorry."

Kaito didn't have time to ask what he was talking about before the door to the library swung open and Yukiko came barreling through the doorway, hair swinging behind her in perfect curls. Yuusaku was right after her, adjusting his glasses across the bridge of his nose and tugging his tie into place.

"Kai-chan!" Yukiko squealed, and swooped in to kiss Kaito on both cheeks. Kaito was frozen in shock, understandably, as Yuusaku smiled politely at him and held one hand out.

"Hello again, Kuroba-kun," he greeted, inclining his head as Kaito reached out to shake his hand numbly. "Nice work on the Dubai mission. I read the report personally – although I've been doing that ever since you partnered with Shinichi."

"Shinichi," Kaito choked out. Shinichi resisted the urge to rub at his sinuses.

"Yes, Shinichi," Yuusaku confirmed. "My son." He raised his eyebrows. "I believe you're acquainted?"

"Oh, Yuusaku," Yukiko chided, swatting at her husband with a giggle. "You're scaring the poor boy. Now, now, Kai-chan, let's talk about the wedding! How about May? I hear we might be able to get Bell Tree Tower on a Saturday!"

"Shinichi," Kaito managed, reaching out to grab at Shinichi without breaking eye contact with Yuusaku. "Shinichi, your parents are the heads of Night Baron."

Shinichi winced. Yes, he probably should've said something, at least during the year they'd been engaged, but, well, was there any good way of saying, "My parents run the spy agency we work for" without sounding insane? No. There wasn't.

He debated how to answer the question (statement?) before settling on a casual, "Yes."

"And you didn't tell me," Kaito affirmed. He blew out a breath. "Thanks. So much." He coughed. "Uh. Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Kudou. I, ah… it's nice to… talk to you about things other than terrorist attacks and, you know. Bombs. Mass murder." He laughed awkwardly.

(Incidentally, Kaito never forgave Shinichi for not telling him about his parents, either.)

* * *

 **...aaAND that's it. I got to the end and realized that I didn't actually have that much... spy...ness? Spying? Yeah. Sorry. I may revisit this idea later on so I actually write spy!Shinichi and spy!Kaito in action.**

 **Well, I hope you enjoyed this story even just a little (if you did, please consider dropping me a review!) and I'll see you all later! - Luna**


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